Klan’s Woman

Tammi Buckner sighed and gazed at her reflection
in the full-length mirror in the bedroom of her double-
wide mobile home. The pretty blond 23-year-old turned
this way and that, trying to look sexy in the long
white robe and the pointed white hat.

At length she puffed her cheeks and gave a snort
of resignation. There was no way she was going to
look good in the robes of the wife of the local grand
dragon of the Knights of the KKK.

Her husband, Mike, was still at work at the garage
and wouldn’t be home until late. Monday was his poker
night and he often didn’t return home until past mid-
night, and then usually dead drunk and smelling of
cheap perfume.

Tammi pulled the robe off over her head and looked
at the reflection of her naked body in the mirror. She
ran her hand down her flat stomach, then up to her
large pendulous breasts that were wondrously white and
unspoiled by the sin of integration. She was pure
white. Even her lush pubic patch was platinum white.
She examined her patch in the mirror and was satisfied
that a year of marriage hadn’t caused her labia to
become dark or distended.

Her father, past Grand Dragon, had been so pleased
to give his only daughter’s hand in marriage to Mike.
The lad is full of promise, he always said. Tammi had
grown up in a Klan home. Her brothers were Klansmen.
Her grandfather had been a Klansman and his father
before him.

Tammi didn’t care for “colored folks” at all. They
were animalistic and all their men folk craved were
wine and white women. She saw the way the black boys
stared at her in high school, their yellow eyes un-
dressing her as she walked past. The country would be
far better off if they all just went back to Africa,
she reasoned.

Still, she recalled one night when she was seven-
teen. Her father, grandpa and Mike, then her boy
friend, had been sitting in the log cabin they owned
up at the lake. It was late and she was supposed to
be asleep but had gotten up to pee.

She heard grandpa talking about a time he and some
of the boys had lynched this “nigger” back in 1938 for
looking at a white women and getting an erection!

Tammi had frozen in her tracks. She had heard
about “erections” from some of the trampy girls in
school and was fascinated by the idea. Anyway,
grandpa said they hung up this boy and one of the mob
had pulled the boys pants down while whipping the
body. They had all gasped, then had all started to
laugh.

That “nigger” never had no erection when he saw
the widder woman. Instead they all saw that he had a
dong bigger’n a donkey! Grandpa had held up his arm
and indicated the boy’s length. Then grandpa said
that was the proof that the Negro race was inferior.
No God-fearing white man had a dong like these
colored’s, twernt natural. Colored were most likely
a cross between a man and some sort of hoofed animal.

Tammi had tip toed back to her bed after eaves-
dropping on her men folk, but she could never erase
the mental image of the dead boy’s organ. She wondered
what use such an instrument could be for, surely not
for procreation.

On her wedding night Tammi had still been a virgin.
Mike had drunk a belly-full of corn liquor and came
staggering into their bedroom to consummate the mar-
riage. When he had stripped off his jeans and stood
proudly before Tammi her heart had leapt to her throat.
Mike’s member couldn’t have been any longer that her
middle finger and not much thicker that a regular hot
dog.

She had expected more. He had used it awkwardly,
jabbing all around her tight hole. Once inside her
body he had taken about five quick strokes and then
had cum and rolled over and gone to sleep quickly.

Now, a full year after that night Tammi found her-
self all alone. She shrugged her shoulders to no one
in particular and pulled on a faded bathrobe. She sat
down to watch a Christian show on the TV.

+ + +

At the feed store the next day Tammi was ten
minutes late. Her fat old boss leered at her as Mike
let her out of the pick up truck and left. So, maybe
she did wear her jeans a little too tight and didn’t
always wear a bra under her tight western-style shirts.

She tilted her SKOAL baseball cap back on her head
and shook some horse shit off her fashionable slouch
boots. “Darn it,” she muttered, wrinkling her pert,
freckled nose.

“Howdy, missus Buckner,” her boss gave her a gaped-
tooth grin.

“Howdy, mister Lane. Mighty fine day, doncha
think?” she asked cheerfully.

“Mighty fine, mighty fine,” the old man trailed
off. She followed his gaze to her crotch where the
seam and tucked up her vulva grove again. Tammi spun
on her heels, her face glowing bright red, and strode
purposely to her station at the cash register. When
she was sure no one was watching she tugged the
offending seam to its proper place. Tammi didn’t
really mind old man Lane. He was harmless enough.
However, he should have more respect for the wife of
the local Grand Dragon, she thought.

Moment’s later Mr. Rogers came in for a load of
oats for his horses. He brought that new colored k*d
he had hired to help on the farm with him. Clydewas
his name, Tammi believed. He was about nineteen and
about six-feet tall. He would have been handsome if he
hadn’t been colored, she had often thought.

As he loaded the heavy bags of oats onto Rogers’
old flat bed Tammi could see the muscles bulging under
his tank top. Rogers wandered off to gossip with the
fellers down at the barbershop, leaving Tammi alone
with Clyde. She went out to the loading dock to watch
and make sure Clyde didn’t try and steal something.

She stood watching him, rocking back and forth on
her heels, her hands stuffed in her back pockets. She
noticed that every once in awhile Clyde looked at her
on the sly, watching her heavy breasts as they shook
with her movement. Tammi didn’t really know why, but
at that moment she decided to gather her long blond
hair into a ponytail. With her elbows up her tits
jogged on her chest, her fat nipples clearly evident.

“What you lookin’ at there, boy?” Tammi asked.

Clyde quickly averted his eyes. “N-nuthin’, miss
Tammi!”

Tammi smiled at his fear of her. She moved closer
so that her crotch was only inches from his wooly head.
Tammi recalled her grandpa’s story and she stole a
glance at the boy’s trousers. Sure enough, there was
a very respectable bulge in the boy’s jeans. In spite
of herself Tammi felt her clitoris elongating, her
pussy lips spreading. She could feel her nipples
tightening under the thin material of her shirt.

“You ain’t from ’round heah, are ya, boy?” she
asked in a not-unfriendly tone.

“No ma’am. Ise from Jefferson County,” she said
proudly.

Tammi squatted on the loading dock, causing her
jeans to define her womanhood clearly. She picked up
a piece of straw and chewed on it. Clyde turned to
grab another sack of oats and was face-to-face with
Tammi’s cleavage and blue-jeaned mons. He could see
the freckles on the tops of her boobs and he thought
that she must have undone a couple of buttons while
he wasn’t looking. He could feel his cock fattening,
creeping down his pants leg and he wished he had worn
some tight underwear that morning.

Tammi noted this cocks growth with widening eyes.

He glanced at her face and saw her sucking on the
piece of straw.

“You lazy nigger!” bellowed Mr. Rogers. “You ain’t
got this oat loaded up yet?”

Tammi stood so quickly she felt dizzy. She turned
her back to Mr. Rogers and rebuttoned the top two
buttons of her shirt. She walked with deliberation
back inside the feed store.

After Rogers had left Mr. Lane asked Tammi for the
sales slip for Rogers’ oats.

“I’m sorry, mister Lane. I plumb forgot t’ get
him to sigh it,” Tammi apologized.

“Dagnabit! I gotta do the books today and I need
it. Take my truck up to the Rogers’ place and fetch
it, won’tcha?”

+ + +

Tammi bounced the old truck down the rutted road
to the Rogers’ farm. Her heavy tits bounced up and
down on her thin chest painfully, but the motion of
the truck was a welcomed stimulation to her yawning
woman. By the time she had reached his backwoods farm
she was near climax.

Tammi stopped near the old slave quarters, where
she thought Clyde probably lived. But there was no
one home. The farm seemed deserted. Even the main
house was empty of life. Tammi strolled down to the
creek, humming a gospel tune to herself and kicking an
old can ahead of her. When she heard some splashing in
the creek she became quiet and continued to walk down
to the waters edge.

Standing behind a growth of cat tails Tammi saw
what she recognized as Clyde’s clothing spread out on
a huckleberry bush. She squatted down and watched.

Clyde was bathing himself in the clear, cold water.
He was lathering up with a bar of laundry soap. She
marveled at his musculature and his chocolate-brown
skin. She had never seen a black man with his shirt
off and she giggled silently at the small peppercorn
curls of hair on his chest.

Then Clyde stood up in the thigh-deep pool and
began to lather up his groin.

Tammi’s breath caught in her throat. Clyde’s dong
flopped lazily as he washed. It had to be as long as a
donkey’s dick, Tammi gasped. It was black as tar,
except for a small part of the pink tip that stuck out
from his foreskin. His balls were the size of small
lemons and they hung low and heavy, sort of like a
Brahma bull’s.

Clyde was staring off in the distance, obviously
thinking of something he had seen or heard in the past.
Slowly, barely perceptibly, his cock began to swell and
straighten. His washing motion became a stroking
motion and his eyes rolled up into his head.

Tammi couldn’t believe her eyes. This black boy
was abusing himself with her watching! She should
turn and run screaming, like any good white women
would. But she was mesmerized by the sound of his
fist as it worked his now-hard pork sword at the base
of his belly. With his other hand he cupped and
lifted his swinging balls.

Without conscious intent Tammi let the fingers of
one hand play over the material covering her crotch.
With her other hand she pinched a fat nipple through
the material of her shirt.

Clyde began to sway his hips in a circular motion,
moving to some primitive jungle beat in his head. His
fist was a frothy blur on his cock and he began to hum
a tune (Tammi thought it was “Kumbiya” or something).

Tammi’s own stroking became more frenzied and her
hips moved forward and back in a mock humping motion.
She sucked in her breath between clenched teeth and
felt a drop of sweat meandering down the hollow of her
back.

Suddenly, a twig beneath Tammi’s boot snapped.
Tammi froze and watched Clyde. He was in a crouch in
the water, like a leopard ready to strike. A leopard
with a massive hard on. His trained eyes scanned the
riverbank until he caught a flash of gold just over a
bunch of cat tails. He ran to the spot as quick as
the water and his bobbing cock would let him.

Tammi fell to her hands and knees and scramble
away from the creek. She crawled like a lizard until
she came to a set of wet, black feet in front of her.
She slowly raised her head and found herself eye to
eye with an angry, throbbing black cock. Soapy foam
still dripped from its length, and she could almost
feel it throbbing in the still midday air.

Clyde let out a hearty laugh. “Well, I done seen
everythang now! A Klanswoman spying on a poor black
boy as he washes his johnson! What this world comin’
too anyway?!”

Tammi stuttered. “It ain’t like that! I wus jist
coming down heah t’ see if old man Rogers was ’bout.
‘Cept I saw you taking a bath and I tried t’ get out
of heah afore you seen me.”

To her amazement, Clyde slowly reached down and
began to leisurely stroke his monstrous organ again.
A milky drop of pre-cum formed at the eyelet. “Take
off that shirt, lady. I wanta see them big-ol’ tits,”
he commanded in a voice Tammi had never heard a black
man use to any white person before.

Meekly, and not wholly unwillingly, Tammi unbut-
toned and slid her shirt off her shoulders.

Clyde sucked in his breath nosily. “Gawd damn!
Them’s the finest set of udders Ise evah seen! You’re
man is one lucky cracker!”

Taking his statement as a compliment, Tammi pulled
her shoulders back and arched her back, causing her
mammaries to jut out proudly. A bottlefly landed on
one hard nipple but she blew it away. Tammi cupped
her breasts in her hands and began to mash them around
on her chest, enjoying the feeling of showing herself
to someone like this.

“That’s it! That’s what Ise likes t’ see!” Clyde
hissed his approval and he picked up the pace of his
cock stroking.

The size of him, and the coal blackness of his
cock fascinated Tammi. Finally she screwed up her
courage and asked, “Can I…touch it?”

Clyde smiled his approval and Tammi reached out
tentatively. She left her fingertips play along it’s
length, feeling its heat, its hardness. It felt like
a tightly packed sausage to the blond woman.

She tried to close her fingers around its girth
but could not. She began to stroke his dong, trying
hard to match the motion of Clyde’s hand. She felt
the loose outer skin folds and creases under her
fingers as she moved them back and forth.

“Put it in yo’ mouth, girl!” Clyde almost pleaded.

Tammi was instantly angry, how dare this nigger
say somethin lik that to her! She’d never done such a
base thing before as use her mouth; not even on her
husband.

But as she watched this black man’s huge cock
glistening in the sun for some reason the young Klan’s
woman forgot herself and she didn’t hesitate. She
opened her mouth to a painful degree and placed the
head at her stretched lips.

She let her tongue play with the slimy head of his
cock and she tasted its saltiness. It was like am-
brosia to the wanton woman. Try as she might she could
not get the swollen head past her teeth. Instead she
jacked his wondrous tool off into her mouth, tasting
the gooey pre-cum that oozed out of its tip in
increasing volume.

Tammi felt no shame. Her own brothers had buggered
sheep when they were pre-teens. What she was doing
with this black buck was no different, she reasoned.
She had once jacked off a colt in her family barn when
she was a teenager herself, marveling at the amount of
ejaculate the young stallion had produced from his
pulsating organ.

She would jack this boy off the same way and see
if his horse-sized equipment would spew as much white
seed as did that colt.

“Stand up, woman,” Clyde groaned.

Tammi rose to her feet slowly. Her legs had fallen
asleep and she was unsteady. Then, to her surprise,
Clyde kissed her full on the mouth. His large, meaty
lips felt foreign to Tammi. He slid a thick, stiff
tongue into her mouth and played with her tongue there.

Tammi continued to jack his pecker, which was now
pointed upwards and leaving trails of pecker snot on
her hot tits.

Clyde reached down to her narrow waist and undid
the western belt and then unbuttoned the fly of her
jeans.

Tammi pulled away slightly. This was going too
far! Playing with this buck’s cock was one thing, but
once he got her knickers off her — they’erd be no
stopping him. That’s the way these blacks are, she
had heard.

Clyde put both of his wide hands on her shapely
ass and pulled her hips to his. She could feel his
swollen nut sack against her belly.

“No, boy. This has gone far enough!” she said
without conviction.

“C’mon, missy! You don’t want to miss the fire-
works, do ya?”

“White women aren’t built to handle a black man’s
organ…in their bodies. It ain’t natural.” She said.

Clyde laughed deeply at this. “Shoot. I gotta
tell that to all the whitewomen I been fuckin’ regular
over the last year!”

“You been with a white woman, like that?” Tammi
was incredulous.

“You know Reverend Smithy’s gal, Pearly Mae?” he
asked with a broad, white toothed grin.

“You NEVAH! Why, I went to school with Pearly Mae!
She ain’t no bigger’n me…”

“‘Xactly! You nevah knows what you can handle
till you tries. I been tappin’ that miss Pearly Mae
when her daddy be comin’ out here to talk with the
Rogers. She tells ’em that she’s goin’ down to the
barn t’ see the baby goats but she be comin’ down to
see this heah Jackson County mud snake instead!”

Tammi stood dumbfounded and did not resist while
Clyde pulled down her tight jeans. Then her flimsy
lace panties.

“Oooee! Lookit dat lit’ cooter!” Clyde clapped in
hands in undisguised glee.

Tammi smiled demurely.

Clyde dropped to his knees, his obscenely large
cock bobbing up and down from his crotch and his low-
slung balls resting on the ground. He spread her light
pink pussy lips and expertly lapped at her erect clit
with his rough tongue.

Tammi had never had a man use his mouth on her
before and the effect was electrifying. Her knees
went weak and she had to support herself by placing
her hands on top of his wooly head. She tilted her
head back and moaned unabashedly. Her hips involun-
tarily pushed her pussy hard against his busy mouth
and she humped his face like a puppy in heat. Her
orgasm took her totally by surprise. Her body began
to shake violently and she wrapped her arms around
his head and ground her cunt into his face in a
machine-like fashion.

“Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah…” she hissed.

When the waves of bliss had passed over the
heaving blond racist, she relaxed and fell onto the
ground on her back. She looked between her bent knees
at Clyde, who was leisurely stroking his cock to
maximum hardness. It still looked too large to ever
enter her beautiful, Christian body, but she was
willing to try to accommodate the animal organ. Heck,
at that point she’d of fucked a German Shepherd
without so much as a second thought!

Clyde leaned forward, placing one palm on the red
clay soil near the twitching girl’s shoulder. He
positioned his strong black body over the small golden
one prostrate on the ground beneath him. The other hand
was at the tip of his turgid tool, guiding it between
the delicate folds of her moist womanhood.

Tammi reached up and pinched his hard little nip-
ples and ran her hands over his rippling chest, arms
and dimpled belly. When the thick head of his cock
entered her honey pot she gasped and her body lurched.
It hurt, but it hurt good!

“Now, ya take it slow, y’heah?” she pleaded, her
full lower lip quivering.

“I sho’nuf will. Ise knows how yo’ lil’ white
gals can’t take a whole black johnson the first time,
gen’ry speakin’,” Clyde said knowingly.

He eased the massive head into her snug vagina,
past the stretched pussy lips. Tammi, watching his cock
sinking into her cunt from between her up-turned
thighs, marveled at the miracle of nature that allowed
a giant cock to enter a woman’s tight void without
tearing it all to pieces. Her gizmo was actually
stretching, molding itself to accommodate this pro-
digious invader. While it still stung it felt so good
too!

The friction was mind searing. Clyde was having a
problem holding back his climax. The tightness of
Tammi’s sweet, young cunt was making his balls boil
over. And he wasn’t even halfway up her puss! He
could feel her twat squeezing his manhood like a giant,
wet fist, massaging it.

Millions of years of evolution had taught her pussy
to maximize the moment, to force whatever man who could
please her to cum deep in her belly and therefore
guarantee the survival of the species. Her hips rotated
involuntarily, working back and forth and all the while
milking the huge tool that plumbed the heretofore un-
explored depths of her lovenest.

He looked at Tammi’s face and saw her eyes glazed,
her open-mouth breathing, her tongue darting in and out
in time with his thrusts, as if the there wasn’t enough
room in her lithe body for both his cock and her
tongue.

With great difficulty and sensitivity Clyde managed
to force half of his horse cock into Tammi’s little
quim before hitting bottom. The pivoting of his hips
caused his heavy balls to swing like pendulums beneath
his crotch.

Their orgasms took them both by surprise. Tammi
felt Clyde’s hard body tense, shudder, spittle flying
from his lips and his eyes animal-like in their lust.
His thrusts became urgent as his body went into over-
drive in an effort to get his seed as deep as possible
in her womb.

Tammi’s head lolled from side to side, her heavy,
sweaty breasts moving in circular fashion on her rib
cage. Wave after countless wave of spasm swept over
her body until, at last totally spent, she crossed and
locked her heels over his canon-ball buns. At that
moment her body resolved to never let this pleasure-
giving man and his wondrous organ leave her body.

After what seemed like an hour Clyde tried to
extricate himself from her hold. He felt her arms
tighten around his neck and her legs clamp his hips.

“C’mon, lady. Ise got chores t’ do!” he said with
a grin.

“I ain’t nevah lettin’ y’ go, loverboy! That was
cosmic! It was holy! Ise want more!” she said with a
tone approaching reverence.

Finally relinquishing her hold, Clyde pulled his
still-large, glistening cock from her reddened hole.
The sudden void was painful to Tammi and she ground
her knees together in an effort to close her cuntal
orifice. Her swollen, abused pussy lips she tried to
push back into place.

Slowly, quietly, with a sense of depression, the
two gathered up their soiled clothing and dressed.
Tammi found that he sexy skin-tight jeans now rubbed
her pussy in an uncomfortable way and she tried to
wear them lower on her tapered hips. Red clay caked
her knees and elbows.

Gazing forlornly at the crushed grass caused by
their thrashing Tammi said in a barely audible voice,
“Am I gonna see ya again, boy?”

Clyde considered the question for a moment, then
said, “Well, Ise gonna be heah helpin’ the Rogers till
the end o’ summer. Ise guess we kin see each other as
offen as yo’ wanna.”

Tammi felt tears of joy well in her eyes and she
wheeled about and threw her arms around Clyde’s neck
and kissed him hard on his fat lips.

+ + +

When Tammi pulled to a stop in the gravel outside
Mr. Lane’s feed store she saw the old man sitting on
a rocker in a shady part of the loading dock. With
poorly disguised guilt she swung down from the high
cab and approached him with her head hung, her thumbs
hooked in her front pants pockets.

“Where in the Sam Hill have you been, girl? You
been gone now near two hours!”

“Ise lookin” fer mister Rogers on his farm yonder.
I neveh did find him, though,” she said, avoiding the
old man’s eyes.

“Your man came by heah whilst you was out. Sayd
he’s lost he’s job at the garage. Sayd fer me t’ send
you right home when you showed up. Now, you geet
home and tend t’ your man, heah?”

+ + +

Tammi saw Mikes truck parked askew outside their
mobile home. She felt a knot in the pit of her
stomach. The young woman tried to make herself look
less freshly fucked, pulling the twigs from her hair
and brushing the clay off her knees.

“Geet yo’ ass in heah, Tammi!” came Mike’s voice
from inside the darkened trailer.

She could tell from his voice that he had been
drinking hard liquor. She found him sitting in his
ratty lounge chair, dressed in his KKK robes, a shot-
gun resting across his knees. He was pulling deeply
from a mason jar of clear liquid.

“Oh, Mike! Mister Lane told me about your job!
Ise so sorry, dear!” she said.

“Nevah mind all that! Geet yo’ robes on. We gotta
meetin’ tonight!” Mike said with a slur.

Tammi was tired and dirty, but she knew better than
to argue with Mike when he was in this state. Forlorn-
ly, she went into the bedroom.

Tammi could smell sex on her jeans and decided to
change before putting on the robe. She peeled her
jeans off, Clyde’s now dried spooge pulling on her
pubic hairs like glue. She realized that she had lost
her panties at some time during her frenzied lovemaking
and worried that Mike might sometime ask where the
expensive red lace panties were. She’d have to find a
replacement pair to fool him as soon as possible, she
thought.

“Watcha doin’, standin’ in heah nakid? At ah time
like this! Is yous playin’ wit’ yerself, y’slut?”

Tammi wheeled about in fright. Her small hands
automatically went to cover her public patch and her
heavy tits.

“No! Ise jist gettin’ dressed like y’told me ta!”
she offered weakly, her voice cracking with her fear.

Slowly, a crooked grin crept across Mikes flushed
face. Her tosses the mason jar on top of a pile of
dirty laundry and leaned his shotgun against the wall.
He took Tammi by her shoulders and kissed her on the
lips. The liquor in his mouth stung her pouty lips.
Tammi tried to pull away but Mike’s mechanic’s grip was
too strong.

“Mike, please, ahm not in the mood…” she pro-
tested softly.

“Well, geet in dah mood, damnit!”

Mike’s callused hand was on her womanhood, rubbing
it roughly. Tammi panicked. If Mike noticed the dried
cum on her quim he would k**l her on the spot. If he
knew it were a black man’s cum he would do worse.

“You smell hotter’n asphalt in the summer, woman!”
Mike said with approval. He was mistaking the smell
of her earlier encounter with Clyde as the scent of her
arousal.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” she mumbled.

Mike roughly bent his naked wife over the bed and
fumbled beneath his robe with his fly. Tammi felt his
pathetic little penis, hard as rebar, poking around
her cunt. She reached back between her legs and guided
him into her warm pit.

“Sheet! You shor are wet!” Mike exclaimed gleeful-
ly, interpreting the slickness caused by her juice and
Clyde’s cum as her own natural lubrication. After a
mere fifteen strokes Mike collapsed on her back and she
knew that he had cum.

Tammi prayed silently her thanks that Mike hadn’t
figured out she was freshly fucked. Now, his own
sexual activity would mask any earlier acts. Mike
smiled to himself then looked at the rear of his still
bent-over wife. He was shocked at how splayed and
ruddy his wife’s formally light pink and compact set
of puss lips were. He had better stop being so rough
in his passion, he thought to himself, taking respon-
sibility for the change.

Tammi was lost in thought, thinking of Clyde. She
was relishing the light sting of the cool air of the
bedroom on her wet cunt. She felt her pussy winking
at the remembrance and finally stood up, hoping that
her husband didn’t take the noticeable twitching of her
labia as ardor for another short-lived fuck with him.
To her surprise, Mike was standing behind her with a
devilish grin and holding out her ceremonial robes to
her.

“Heah, babe. Put this heah on ovah yo’ nakid body.
Ah think it’d be a hoot fo’ me t’know that you wuz
nakid as a jay bird at ta meetin’ tonight. It’d be our
lil’ secret,” he said.

“No, Mike. Someone’d notice. They’d see ma nip-
ples or ma ankles or sometin”, she protested.

“Naw. You wear them boots you’s always wearin’
and no one’ll see yo ankles, an’ I don’ care if they
see them teats….it’d make them envy me that Ise gots
the best lookin’ cooter in the bunch!”

It was no use to argue with him when he was like
this. Tammi grabbed the robe out of his outstretched
hand and pulled it over her head. As she had suspected
her erect nipples tinted the thin material. She pulled
on her slouch boots andcrumpled the pointed hat in her
small fist and said, “C’mon, let git this ovah with!”

+ + +

It was dark when Mike pulled the truck into the
clearing that was the good-weather meeting place. A
crowd of similarly attired men were standing around a
large wooden cross that dominated the center of the
hollow waiting for the arrival of the grand wizard.
Mike pulled on his hat and flipped down the mask
portion. Tammi did likewise.

The Buckner’s greeted various other Klansmen they
recognized by their size,build or mannerisms beneath
the robes and masks. Tammi met with a small group of
Klanswomen, a few with their c******n, also in robes,
in tow.

“Goodness, Tammi, it’s good ta see ya!” a heavily
built older woman greeted the wife of the Grand Wizard.
Are you an’ Mike comin’ by for dinner afta’ church this
Sunday?” asked another, smaller woman.

“Why, sure, Sibyl,” Tammi replied distractedly.
She noticed the eyes of the women scanning the supple
curves of her body and she knew that they knew she was
naked under the robe. Her cheeks flushed bright red
at her shame. Mike had mounted a small platform in
front of the cross and, lit only by the torches carried
by his cohorts, raised the wide, striped sleeves of his
robe to hush the crowd.

“My brothers,” he began, “most of y’ll have heard
that today Ah lost ma job down t’ garage.” A mummer
of disgust and acknowledgement rose from the crowd.

“An’ it twernt ’cause ah wasn’t a good worker,
neither. They be shuttin’ down the garage due to the
competition of that COLORED OWNED garage ‘cross town!”
The crowd was louder now, punctuated by a ripple of
curses and an occasional spit of chaw.

“Now, the same damn thing kin happin’ ta any of us.
Whot we gonna do ’bout it?!” The crowd responded with
a roar, “K**l ’em! K**l them niggers!”

Tammi looked at the blazing eyes of the people
around her as if seeing them for the first time. They
were alien, hateful, and animal-like. If only they
all knew how good a black person can be, like how good
a fucker her own Clyde was. Surely then they would
accept the black man as an equal or, quite possibly, a
superior!

Tammi thought that Clyde’s cock was probably the
equal to any three of the cocks of the assembled mass.
The thought of Clyde’s pleasure giving whopper, coupled
with the chill of the night air, brought Tammi’s
pointed nipples to glass-cutting hardness. She tried
to fold her arms over her chest to hide them but only
managed to frame her heavy, large tits with her arms.

Mike went on, saying the same things he usually
said at such meetings, until a rattling old pickup
truck slid to a stop on the outskirts of the crowd.
Tammi recognized the two men inside as unrobed Klans-
men. Their faces were aglow with triumph.

“Brother Weldon and Jones: What causes you t’ be
late t’ the meetin’ and interrupt it so?” bellowed
Mike, anger evident in his voice.

“Sheeit! Brother Buckner! We gotta present fer
ya!” called Weldon. He and Jones went around to the
back of the pickup bed and pulled a bound man to his
feet.

Tammi’s heart was in her throat–it was Clyde!
She resisted her first impulse to run to his side.
Clyde looked frightened, his eyes large and white,
darting from side to side as looking for a friendly
face. A trickle of b***d seeped from the corner of
his mouth and he had a large knot on his forehead.
His tank-top shirt was ripped, displaying his rippled
muscles.

“Bring the nigga forward!” commanded Mike from
the platform. Clyde was lifted off his feet by the
two rednecks and dragged over the grass to the foot
of the platform. Tammi felt the tears welling in her
wide eyes. Surely they were only going to scare the
poor boy and let him go. They had not had a proper
lynching in her county since 1954, but they had never
brought a captive black to one of the meetings before.

Mike hunkered down on the platform and looked at
the prostrate black man. He spoke in an almost gentle,
friendly voice. “You know who we are, boy?”

“Yessuh, Ise knows. You be the Klan!” Clyde
replied, his head bobbing like one of those statues
you put in the rear window of your Ford.

Mike reached down and rubbed Clyde’s short Afro
paternally. “Well, yo’ the one that I heard wuz
lookin’ at my wife at the feed store today. Y’know
what we do ’round heah with niggers that lookit white
women? D’ya, huh? We HANG ‘EM!”

The crowd cheered and surged forward, grabbing the
hapless black man with a dozen hands and hoisting him
over their peaked hoods. Tammi felt her knees give
way and would have fallen to the ground if she had not
been swept along with the press of the crowd. The mob
surged like a wave carrying Clyde like a Surfboard
until it reached an old oak tree at the edge of the
clearing.

Someone produced a hemp rope, which was thrown over
a suitable limb. Clyde was wild with fear. He strug-
gled and twisted against the ropes wrapped around his
legs, arms and chest, but to no avail. A roughly made
nose was shoved over his ducking head and he was
hoisted onto the shoulders of two of the tallest Klans-
men.

The mind is a strange thing. Different emotions
can evoke different reactions. For reasons not fully
understood Clyde’s panic brought about an unexpected
reaction. His fear cross-circuited in his brain and
loosed a rush of testosterone. The result was a
massive erection that tented his ripped, loose slacks.

“Gawddamn!” cried one Klansmen. “He’s got a cock
as big as a cotton mouth!”

There was rough masculine laughter at this. Some
woman exclaimed, “My lawd!” Tammi felt her pussy
swelling and moistening in spite of the situation. It
was as if her body craved the huge cock now but had no
empirical understanding of the circumstance. It was
a primitive, animal reaction.

Mike tapped Clyde’s trapped woody with the barrel
of his shotgun. “Look at it! This fella wanted to
stick that thang in our womanfolk! No gawd-fearing
Christian woman could let somethin’ like that into her
delicate body! This heah is the dong of a savage! The
weapon of Satan!”

Tammi could take no more. She stomped hard on
Mike’s instep with the heel of her boot. As he howled
and hopped about she took his pump 12-gauge shotgun
and loosed a round into the air over the head of the
crowd. Training the muzzle on the mob and pulled off
her pointed hat.

“Now y’all listen t’me!” she growled in her squeaky
feminine voice. “Billy and Marky, you let that boy
down now gentle-lyke.”

“Shoot, missus Buckner, we weren’t gonna hurt ’em.
We wuz jist gonna scare ’em good fer lookin’ at a white
woman…”

Tammi cradled the butt of the shotgun in the crook
of her arm, her finger still on the trigger, and
gathered up the hem of her robe with her free hand.
The crowd gasped as the torch light revealed her flat
belly and the thick forest of blond pubic hair at the
juncture of her legs.

“That boy did more’n lookit a white woman. He
stuck that big black pole of his in my white pussy…
an’ Ah enjoyed it!”

An older Klanswoman fainted dead away. One fat
man gripped his chest and had to be supported by the
others. Mike had stopped hopping and was standing
motionless, dumb struck.

“Mike, Ah hates t’ do this to you, but this here
colored boy made me feel things Ah nevah felt before.
Ah don’t think Ah could evah lay with a white man
after being pronged by that there horse cock.”

She flung off her robe and stood before the crown
in defiant nakedness. Billy and Marky had sat Clyde on
his feet and had cut his bindings. He rushed to
Tammi’s side on wobbly legs, his erection snaking down
one pant leg. Tammi and Clyde got into Mike’s pickup
while she kept the gun pointed at the motionless mob.

“Don’t you try ‘an’ find me, Mike. You go an’
find yerself a good woman who isn’t too partic’lar
about the size of a man’s organ.”

The pickup sped off in a cloud of red dust.

+ + +

Tammi awoke the next morning in a motel in Indiana.
They had stopped by her trailer, quickly gathered her
belongings and had left town just ahead of a caravan of
angry Klansmen. They had driven all night until they
reached the Indiana state line and used what little
cash they had to rent a motel room.

Too tired to fuck, the two had fallen asleep in
each other’s arms.

Now, feeling truly free for the first time in her
life, Tammi sat up and stretched her naked body. She
stared lovingly at Clyde’s still hard cock. He had not
lost his fear-induced hard on all night. His face was
serene in sleep, almost childlike. Tammi gently laid
her head on his hard belly and silently worshipped his
towering cock that pointed at the ceiling fan like an
Atlas V rocket.

At last she could stand the longing in her cunt no
longer. She rose on her knees and straddled the boy.
Tilting his cock forward and aiming it at her lust-
swollen twat.

She didn’t want to wake him. She slowly, slowly
slid down the ebony pole, resting the palms of her
hands on his chest. She tilted her head back fully
and closed her eyes, relishing the unbelievable ecstasy
she felt in her vagina. She felt that her cunt was the
center of the universe and all else was nonsense.

She slid down until his cock would fit no more,
then pressed harder downward, trying to stretch her
womb to take him all. She rose slowly, then sunk down,
repeating the action over and over again. She had to
bite her lower lip to keep from crying out with
pleasure.

Clyde’s hips began to rise and sink with her
motion. His eyes fluttered then opened, her full,
ripe breasts filling his vision. He spread his thighs
to accommodate his swelling balls and felt her juice
leaking down his throbbing cock.

Tammi opened her eyes when she felt his work-
hardened hands cup her shapely ass, lifting her in
time with her strokes. Tammi rose from her knees and
placed her feet on either side of his waist, her elbows
between her own knees, and picked up the pace of her
movements. Clyde dug his heels into the mattress and
began lifting his ass off the bed with each of Tammi’s
down strokes, meeting her cunt with a thrust that sent
sparks to her brain.

Tammi would move her pelvis is a circular fashion
on each down stroke and they both knew they were
dangerously near an explosive climax. Clyde’s big
balls drew up in a tight knot against the base of his
shiny cock and he could feel the cum churning through
the tubes that lead to the head of his penis. Tammi’s
eyes were wide open and focused on eternity and, her
tongue sticking out of her mouth. Their movements
became ragged, uneven.

Suddenly, Clyde dug his heels in hard and lifted
his ass, and Tammi, clean off the bed. He had to dig
his fingers into her ass to hold her on his cock to
keep her from flying over his head.

“Oh yass! Oh yass! Fuck me! Fuck me you lovely
big cock!!!!” Tammi wailed uncontrollably.

Each pulse of his spasming cock sent a full ounce
of pecker snot deeper into her womb that she had ever
felt. He began fucking her up and down so hard that
her tits were swinging up and down and hitting her on
her chin. It was like riding a bucking bronco and the
girl had to lean forward, mashing her udders onto his
chest and locking her arms around his thick neck to
keep from being thrown off.

At last, they lay still, gasping for air, their
sweat-slick bodies entwined. They fucked three more
times that day before moving on to the west and to
their new lives together.

Archivist’s note: I apologize in advance to anyone who
is offended by the racist subject matter to follow.
This is an erotic story that happens to revolve around
the unjust circumstances that exist in many places
around the world. In this story the protagonist’s
eventually come out on top.